


Give your fears to me

by raisedtokeepquiet



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Claustrophobia, First Meetings, Gen, Loneliness, M/M, Nightmares, Sort Of, but soft ending!, fabri is like early 20s?, is dark, sounds dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedtokeepquiet/pseuds/raisedtokeepquiet
Summary: Fabrizio has booked a bed in a shared hostel room so he can visit that concert he wants to see. Ermal has booked a bed in a shared hostel room so he can go to the university's open day and figure out his future. They get to know each other under unexpected circumstances.





	Give your fears to me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is very, very loosely based on this tumblr post:  
> https://vampireapologist.tumblr.com/post/184046602568/if-two-people-sleep-in-a-bunk-bed-do-they-have-to
> 
> And keep an eye out, cause JuliaBaggins and Sociallyawkwardwriter are writing something too for this prompt :) 
> 
> There's a Dutch song that fits this fic surprisingly well, listen to it here, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYhZlnjHQCI, it comes with an English translation.
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I love to read your comments!

Fabrizio swung his bag onto the bottom bunk of the bunk bed that would be his home for the coming two nights. He tried to look around the room without showing too much that that was what he was doing. Six beds in total, and it didn’t look like they were all occupied. Not yet, at least, but it was still early.

His bed was against the back wall of the hostel room, the other two bunk beds against the other walls. In the corner was the door to the hallway, and the wall opposite his bed was taken up by a large window, letting in the bright summer light. It would be nice to open it, Fabrizio mused, but later, when it was a bit cooler outside, and let in some fresh air in the room. It was stuffy inside.

Sitting down on the bed, he rummaged through his bag to find another shirt, and changed into it, though realizing that it would be a much better option to just shower first. Beneath the bed were drawers meant to put luggage in, but Fabrizio didn’t bother with those. He would be back quickly, and who would steal his old bag with some clothes? He could take his wallet and phone with him to the bathroom. Besides, he was going to share a room with these people, there was deeper trust involved than leaving some possessions on his bed.

He got out his toiletries, grabbed the towel of the bed, and was ready to go. Except, he didn’t actually know where the bathrooms were. Putting down his stuff again, he got out the hostel’s map that he’d received at the check in, and studied it. He was on the first floor of the building, so there should be a bathroom just down the hallway, and there was another one just down the stairs, in case the first was occupied.

It wasn’t, he found, when he had grabbed his things again, and doublechecked that he had his key with him too, and made it to the bathroom. It took him some time to figure out how the shower worked, and most importantly, how to get it to the temperature he wanted, but when he had managed, he stood there, finally relaxing after his long journey as the water clattered down on his shoulders.

He should let his friends know that he had arrived safely, and was ready to explore the city. On his own, yes, but that was what he got for having friends who had their lives together and jobs they couldn’t just leave on a whim. It was okay, Fabrizio could handle being on his own. Of course he could.

There was enough to see anyway, he had looked it up a little, and he had a list of places he wanted to go to. He even had some time tonight, to get started with that, though he planned an early night. This week he had slept particularly badly, so what he couldn’t get in quality, he tried to make up in quantity. It didn’t really work, and usually just backfired.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, those thoughts on sleeping and all that came with it, and shaking the water droplets from his hair, Fabrizio dried himself and got dressed again. It was time to explore the city.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

“I’d like to check in,” Ermal told the girl at the desk, putting his suitcase neatly next to him, and getting out his passport. She was friendly and efficient, in no time handing him a map of the hostel and rattling off the number of his room and bed. First floor, room number three, bed number three. Easy.

Ermal smiled at her, gathered his things, and walked over to the stairs. Dragging his suitcase with him, he rehearsed in his mind the text he would send his mom once he had found his bed. Or should he call? He knew she was a bit worried, and didn’t like the idea of him so far away at all. Maybe calling was nicer.

Lost in thoughts, he had reached the right room already. The key made the door open smoothly, and Ermal stepped inside, rolling his suitcase behind him. Here he was, his place to stay for the coming nights. His place to sleep for the coming nights. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to that, sleep was something that was difficult enough in the privacy of his own home, but now? In a room with five strangers? He didn’t like that at all.

So far, none of the five strangers was in the room, though it looked as if some beds were still unclaimed. He found the little numbers next to the mattresses, and looked for the number three that  signalled his designated bed. And he found it. But it wasn’t empty with the neat stack of towels as some of the other beds. No. It was covered in some papers, Ermal recognized the map of the hostel he was holding in his hand too, some travel tickets, and a bag filled with someone’s possessions. Someone who had clearly claimed the bed that was supposed to be Ermal’s.

He stood there, a bit sheepishly, staring at the bed, though knowing that that wouldn’t make the objects move or disappear. This was just a misunderstanding, surely, but how to fix it? Should he go back down and ask the girl at the desk? Could he just move the stuff?

That seemed a good option, he would just put everything on the top bunk bed. Whoever had left their stuff out in the open like that would probably come back soon and Ermal could explain himself. He gathered all the papers and put them on the top bed, and then took the bag to put it there too.

“Um, that is my bag,” a voice suddenly sounded behind him, and Ermal spun around, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Of course. Great timing.

“Well, this is my bed,” he countered, and stared at the guy who had just come in. Ripped jeans, band T-shirt, hair still dripping water on his shoulders, and a towel round his neck.

“Your bed?”

“Hmhm, room three, bed three, that’s what the girl told me. I just checked in,” Ermal answered, glancing at the number, a shiny silver three, near the pillow.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of them were looking at each other, but rather, both at the number, as if that would tell them who was right.

“Oh, I guess… Maybe I had four, then,” the guy said, running a hand through his hair, making little droplets run down his wrist. Ermal followed them with his eyes, until he realized what he was doing, and looked at the guy’s face again.

“So I can put this here?” he asked, motioning the bag that he was still holding up towards the top bunk.

“Yeah, of course, I’m sorry,” the guy mumbled, stepping over to the beds now, moving his things around but not achieving much.

After putting the bag down on the mattress, Ermal stepped aside a bit, and sat down on his bed. The mattress seemed nice enough, not too hard or too soft, though he knew it wouldn’t matter much. He fished around in his pockets for his phone and dialled his mom’s number. He didn’t have to wait long for her to answer.

“Përshëndetje, mama.”

Ermal almost had to smile at the flood of questions that followed his greeting.

“Mirë, mama, really, I just arrived in the hostel and everything is fine. I’ll be okay!”

A short conversation later in which he outlined the plans he had for the rest of the day, he hung up. The guy was still standing next to the bed, rummaging through his bag, though when he noticed Ermal’s call had finished, he turned to him.

“Here, these are then your towels. There are  ear plugs on top, don’t lose them,” he warned, handing Ermal the stack.

“Oh, yes, thank you, here is your other towel,” Ermal answered, exchanging the items.

“Do you also have my ear plugs there?” the guy asked him, and Ermal looked around. They should be there on his covers somewhere, right? Then why couldn’t he find them?

“Here, take mine, I have brought my own,” he said, handing back the ones that the hotel had given him.

The guy took them with a small acknowledging smile and a muttered “Thanks”.

Before Ermal could start anything like a proper conversation, or introduce himself, the guy closed his bag, threw it to a corner of the bed, if the thud above Ermal’s head was anything to go by, and then left the room without saying another word.

Well, then. Maybe it was better like this, so he could first see how the guy made it through the night, before trying to get to know him.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Fabrizio walked out of the hostel, taking a right towards the city centre. For its price, the location was surprisingly good, and he found himself in busy streets in no time. Admittedly, that price was driven down by the shared room situation, but he hoped it was going to be worth it. He hadn’t had that many choices, last minute as he booked this.

He ambled through the streets, taking a left here, a right there, randomly making his way. He enjoyed this, pretending he belonged here, pretending that he was just another citizen making his way home, while in reality he didn’t have a single clue where he was going.

Eventually he made it to the river side, lined with promenades and restaurants’ terraces. He now noticed he was getting hungry, but eating here would surely eat a gap out of his budget that was meant to last for the whole weekend. He found a fast food place selling slices of pizza, bought one of those and then sat down on the river’s edge, legs dangling above the water.

As he ate his pizza, he observed the people passing by. It was getting to that time in the early evening when the families were on their way home and the couples came out for a romantic night. Fabrizio stared at the children wistfully. He remembered being their age, the nights when sleep was easy, not something to dread. He remembered those nights long ago when he hadn’t yet encountered the terror now haunting him almost every night. He remembered the first time it had, a little after his fourteenth birthday…

He shook his head, though, wanting to get rid of those thoughts, and got up to find a trash can for his napkins. It didn’t help to think like that, life was what it was, and he had to deal with it, just like everyone else. And he was going to do that by trying to get a long night of sleep, that was the plan.

On his way back to the hostel, he checked the map on his phone and made a detour past the cathedral. If he had time tomorrow, he could go inside, but for now, the outside was already more than enough. Fabrizio stood on the square and stared up at the building, covered in gargoyles and statues, only broken by colourful windows, the low sun lighting up the spires and casting shadows over the square.

He indulged and bought himself some ice cream for the walk home, finishing it just when he entered the street where the hostel could be found. Once he got inside, he passed by the common room, filled with people, laughter and music. Part of him wanted to join them, but he knew that it would be a better idea to just try and go to sleep. He would need his energy tomorrow.

When he entered his room, he saw two girls already in their beds, possibly asleep, so he got his toiletries quietly, and made his way to the bathroom again. The one he had used before was occupied now, but he had luck with the one downstairs. He brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. He was ready now, to sleep, but he didn’t want to. This was what he dreaded the most, that moment just before going to bed and lying down and knowing what was most likely to happen.

But he couldn’t change it, and he had to sleep, so after a few more breaths, he walked out, up the stairs again and to his room. Slowly he put all his things away and climbed into the bed. One other bed was still unoccupied, and in the remaining one someone had appeared in the time Fabrizio was away, and lay there wrapped up in the blankets, back to the room. The boy he met before, the one on the bed below him, was nowhere to be seen.

Fabrizio hoped he would be quiet when he came in later, but more so he hoped he would be quiet during the night. He fumbled with his ear plugs, and then closed his eyes stubbornly, waiting for sleep to come to him.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

It was later than he had planned, when Ermal made it back to the hostel. The sun had long ago set, and he’d been walking the dark streets, getting lost once or twice. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t want to sleep. He never did, though he had to. He just made do with the minimal amount he could get away with.

In the common room the light was still on, one or two people hovering there, no doubt also postponing going to bed. The bedroom was dark when he stepped inside, as he had expected it. Most people inexplicably still went to bed at an early time, forcing themselves to rest, but Ermal couldn’t see why they would torture themselves like that. It was a choice between being tired and being terrified.

For him, it was an easy choice.

So after brushing his teeth and changing into his pyjamas, he got out his book and settled in his pillows to read, music playing on his earphones. This was resting, right? It counted. Sort of.

Many chapters later, he knew there was not really any point anymore in putting it off. His eyes were falling closed anytime he blinked, and he was not sure what had happened in the last four pages at all. Reluctantly, he closed the book and put his music away too, filling his ears with his ear plugs. They felt bulky in his ears, and at home he didn’t bother with them, but now, in a shared room? Of course he did. You never knew how people behaved at night, what their reactions were. Ermal knew that he himself was quiet, caught and almost paralysed in his own mind, but others could talk, or worse. The ear plugs might come in handy.

He stared up at the bed above him, not that it was really visible in the dark. The guy didn’t seem to move much in his sleep, which was a blessing, Ermal supposed. Finally, with a last sigh, he closed his eyes, ready for familiar scenes to start.

But they didn’t.

He still dreamed, of course he did, like pretty much every night, besides a few blessed exceptions, exceptions that were so dangerous to hope for, because it were hopes that would be most violently crushed.

It just wasn’t what he normally dreamed of. It was new, completely new, and that just didn’t happen. Ever since the nightmares had started, he had circled through the same few variations of the same thing, variations that, despite their repetition, never lessened in how much they scared him.

Each night, he felt again the terror, the helplessness, the despair that nothing would ever change, the fear that it would only get worse, his inability to protect the people he loved… Even waking up didn’t save him, not completely. Because one day, these dreams hadn’t been just dreams. They had been his reality, right at that time when he should have had a life without fear, nights without dreams, the occasional nice dream. They had been his reality, and upon waking now, he invariably remembered those same feelings from when he had experienced them in real life and upon waking now, he had to remind him that it was just a dream, and that it was the past, no longer reality.

Ermal assumed that for other people the nightmares were just as bad, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it was like not to have to dream of things that had really happened, to not see memories, the worst kind of memories, every night. Would it be easier to shrug off and continue sleeping? It would surely explain how people just managed that. Because he couldn’t. When he woke up, he wasn’t going back to sleep that night. He couldn’t. Not with the chance of going through it all again.

But this night, it was different. He wasn’t in the dark house he remembered from his childhood, there wasn’t the familiar figure towering over him… In fact, there was no one else at all, it seemed. Ermal found himself in some sort of box, an empty room, all white walls and floors and ceilings. There wasn’t a speck of colour to be found, even his clothes were white.

For a second, a part of his mind that wasn’t completely captured by the dream yet, whispered, wondered why this was supposed to be frightening, when there was just nothing, nothing to harm him, nothing to hurt him, nothing hiding in the shadows… Soon though, those whispers disappeared, and the dream had truly begun.

The walls changed. They were no longer white, but turned transparent, slowly, and Ermal saw figures emerging behind them. He could distinguish more and more, seeing people he didn’t recognize, as the walls turned to glass. Nobody was looking at him, they were passing by, walking in circles around the room, the box he was in. They talked to each other, laughed with each other, but didn’t spare him a single glance.

A nagging feeling of loneliness was starting in his chest, and Ermal tried to wave at the people, tried to get their attention, tried to get them to acknowledge him. He was here, why didn’t anyone see him?

It didn’t work. They just walked on, in their pairs and little groups, smiling, laughing, enjoying themselves. Ermal couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could hear their laughter, louder and louder, echoing through the room. What were they laughing at? Not at him, surely, not if they couldn’t see him, right? But what if they could? What if they could see him, and what if he looked ridiculous, what if there was something wrong with him?

He checked his arms and legs, any part of his body that he could see, but he didn’t see anything strange. He was clad in the white clothes, that was all. He went over to the wall, tried waving some more, tried jumping, even, but again he was ignored.

That feeling of loneliness that was just nagging before, grew, and grew, until it took over his thoughts. He needed someone to notice him, just one person was enough. But no one saw him, not even when he walked next to them as long as the room allowed him. He knocked on the glass, but it didn’t even give a sound he could hear, let alone anyone out there.

Calling out, then, yelling, shouting, he tried it all, but it didn’t work. No one turned, no one looked at him, no one saw him. He was alone, all alone, and that realization made him stagger back to the middle of the room, the loneliness now overwhelming, he couldn’t think of anything else – he was alone, he would always be alone, no one would ever see him for who he really was, or see him at all even, no one.

His legs couldn’t keep him up anymore, and Ermal crumpled to the ground, staring at the people who had such a good time together, who knew each other, who liked each other, who loved each other, and who ignored him, who didn’t even know that he was there, hoping for a sliver of attention.

There, a group of friends, talking, arms around shoulders, laughing, hugging now. On the other side of the box, two people, clearly in love, that needed no explanation whatsoever, and it hurt Ermal’s heart. Couldn’t he have something like this? Just, someone, anyone, to keep him company in his box?

There were children now, playing, running after each other, and Ermal knew that these could be the children he would never have, because he would always be alone, because he was stuck in this box, alone, and no one would ever find him.

He saw all the people he would never know, all the people who would never know him, all the people who had forgotten about him, because he didn’t matter, locked in this room as he was. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t, the feeling of loneliness paralysing him, and it wouldn’t help anyway, because he would still be alone.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, that his heart would implode if this went on another minute, the walls turned opaque again, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The walls turned into gleaming mirrors, showing him time and time again, repeated, over and over. Ermal focused on one of the reflections and breathed deeply, once, twice, surely the worst was over now.

But no, because he realized suddenly that there was a pain in his chest, a pain that wasn’t supposed to be there. Was it his heart breaking from loneliness? The pain spread, slowly, tingling down his arm. His left arm. With a sudden shock, he knew exactly what was happening. He was having a heart attack. All alone, a heart attack, what was he supposed to do? He needed someone to help him, get him to a hospital, save him.

He needed someone. There was no one. All the people had left, and they didn’t notice him anyway. Was he really going to die like this?

He was so focused on the pain in his chest, but with a shock he found that something else was wrong. It was his breathing. He wasn’t quite getting the amount of oxygen he should. What was going on? – It was the room, the box, he was running out of oxygen, he was going to die, all alone, that was what was going on.

The pain didn’t stop, just got worse, breathing became harder, and still there was no one, no one to help him, and now he wasn’t even sure anymore if he could be helped at all, it was too late, too late to save him, and he was dying all alone –

He blinked his eyes, but there were black spots now, growing larger and larger, until he couldn’t see a difference between opening them and closing them, not even with the sheer whiteness of the room, and he knew that this was it, there was no reason left to fight. He was dying. His eyes closed.

 

His eyes opened, and Ermal sucked air into his lungs with greedy gasps. He lay there, staring at the iron mesh above him, his heart racing like it usually did, but it was different. This wasn’t his dream. He didn’t know how, but this definitely wasn’t his dream. It didn’t make it any less frightening, not at all, and he knew there wasn’t a single chance of falling back asleep.

He checked the time on his phone, he had actually slept more than he thought he had, though not enough by a long shot. Still, it had to be enough, he couldn’t stand this again, or worse, add his own dream on top. He lay there, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, and took out the ear plugs. The room was mostly quiet, no one talking, no one screaming either. It didn’t happen often, but people knew to be prepared. Just the girl in the bottom bunk near the door was tossing and turning a lot, all others were lying still, breathing evenly, nothing giving away the terror they were probably in.

Ermal swung his legs over the edge of the bed and put them on the chilly tiles. They helped calming him a bit more, and he walked across the dark room. He settled in the windowsill, back against the open window, and enjoyed the cool night air on his face.

This hadn’t been his dream.

He knew that, with absolute clarity. Because now that his mind was getting over the fear, he realized that he recognized the person he’d seen looking in the mirror back at him. It was the guy he had met just a few hours ago, the guy now still asleep in the top bunk.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

The first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t white. It wasn’t white, and a split second was left to wonder about that, but then the dream took hold. Fabrizio found himself in a room, yes, but not the white one he had seen so many times before. It was dark inside, but a cozy darkness, like rooms can be in winter, when outside the wind is howling, but inside it is warm and dry.

He looked around him, a peace settling in his chest, because this place, it felt like home. Out of the shadows now came figures, three of them, and Fabrizio recognized them, of course he did, they were his family. His mother. His brother. His little sister, so small still. He smiled at them, and they started smiling back, he saw the corners of their mouths rise, slowly, all of them, all for him.

They smiled at him, and they talked to him, a language that sounded like his grandmother’s cooking tasted, a language that sounded like violins being played, a language that sounded like home.

Fabrizio knew this was his place, these were his people. He loved them, and he knew they loved him. They would do anything for each other, they would protect each other from anything. From everything. It was a certainty in Fabrizio’s chest, this was the way it was, and it would never change.

The dream changed, though, a chill seemed to creep through the air, making it much less cozy and homely. A silence grew, overpoweringly loud, all words in that language he loved now gone. A chill also crept up Fabrizio’s back, as he stood there in the room, his family behind him. There were sounds now, outside, footsteps around the house, coming closer, approaching the door, stopping now, at the door, just outside. Keys jangled, and Fabrizio held his breath as one slid into the lock with an uncomfortable shriek, before it turned and the door swung open.

Slowly, so slowly it revealed the person behind it, blocking all the light from the street lanterns outside. It was a man and Fabrizio knew who he was too. Also family. His father. In the door opening, he looked like no more than a shadow, but he was so much more real. Fabrizio could feel the blood turn to ice in his veins, his heart beating loudly, desperately, to keep it moving around.

His father stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Immediately, the house was just dark, no longer cozy, just dark, turning into a scary place. Fabrizio wanted to turn, to run, to hide, but he knew he couldn’t. People depended on him, trusted him, to keep them safe.

His father approached him, just a single step, but it made Fabrizio’s knees quiver. He shot a look over his shoulder, found his brother’s eyes, who kept their sister close, her face hidden in his chest. He found his mother’s eyes, shining in the dark with love and strength. She was doing what she could, he knew that, and he just had to be brave, just for a little bit longer.

A chuckle sounded through the room and his attention was whipped back to the man approaching him, another step closer now. There was no humour on his face, none whatsoever, just a cold, calculating look, and it took all of Fabrizio’s might to keep standing there, to not back away. He couldn’t. He knew what would happen then, and he had promised Rinald and Sabina –

Another step. His father was right in front of him now, towering over him, standing there, blocking all light. Fabrizio felt so small, so insignificant, but he wasn’t, he knew he wasn’t. He could be strong, and he could make a difference, and he could protect the people he loved. Who loved him, who _really_ loved him.

He stood there, kept standing there, wanted to look at his shoes, at the floor, wanted to imagine he was anywhere else, but he didn’t. Slowly, he dragged his eyes up, centimetre by centimetre, fighting against his instincts, fighting against gravity, until he met his father’s eyes. He stared at them, not even blinking now, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins loud like thunder in his ears.

It was the wrong thing to do. He knew that as soon as the pain exploded on his face, or maybe already before. But it was the only thing he could do. So he kept standing there, ignoring the pain, ignoring the burn of the tears that would only sting and not help in any way.

His father stood there, still right in front of him, his arms down past his sides, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips and still the ice in his eyes. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move, not a single muscle, but Fabrizio felt more pain bloom on his body, with no warning where it came from, where it would be next.

There was nothing he could do, but stand there, make sure he kept standing there, between this monster and his family, protecting them. He could do that.

But it was so hard.

It was so hard, and what made it worse was that he didn’t know how long he had been there like that, how long he still had to be there like that. It seemed time didn’t exist at all, everything just kept happening, without anything actually _happening_ at all.

He couldn’t prepare himself, there was no pattern, there was nothing to hold on to. Sometimes the pain would lessen, only for it to come back worse than before, when he didn’t expect it. Nothing moved in the room, not even he did, he couldn’t, he was frozen, locked in this endless moment, waiting for it to end, but wondering if it ever, ever would.

It didn’t end, the darkness overpowering, the pain omnipresent, and Fabrizio wished it would just _stop_. He still couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything, had no control, all he could do was stand and stare, his eyes wide open.

Suddenly, though, he noticed that the darkness had changed, the black was no longer black but grey, the nothingness was actually filled with objects. He blinked, finally he could blink again, and slowly the room came into focus. It was no longer the home he had been in before, gone was the furniture, gone were all the people, his siblings, his mother. Gone was his father.

Fabrizio could breathe again, seemingly for the first time since the door of the house had swung open. With every breath he pulled into his lungs, the room he was in now became a little clearer, and with every breath he pushed out again, the pain in every part of his body became a little less.

Finally, he realized that he was in his bed in the room in the hostel. Finally, the pain was gone, and he could think again. Finally, he realized that he was awake. That he wasn’t hurt. That he was safe. That it had just been a dream.

Not his dream, though.

He sat up in the pillows, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. A new dream, a dream he had never seen before, from which he recognized nothing… That didn’t happen, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Where had it come from?

Fabrizio blinked his eyes a few more times, trying to shake the images he’d seen in the dream from his mind, trying to forget the pain he’d felt. The room was quiet, he could hear only the breathing of the others, who were still asleep, maybe still locked in their nightmares.

Except – one other person was awake too. Fabrizio’s eyes found the shadowy shape perched on the windowsill, staring outside. The curls left no mistake who it was. The boy he’d talked to earlier, who slept in the bed below him.

Suddenly, Fabrizio realized that in fact he had recognized something from the dream. That language that had been spoken to him, that he had understood instinctively then, but which he couldn’t make sense of right now that he was awake, that was the same language the boy had used when he was talking on the phone.

And yes, maybe something in the faces of his siblings and his parents in the dream resembled the boy on the windowsill.

But that meant… He’d had his dream? It made sense in one way, but also none whatsoever in every other way.

As Fabrizio was still staring, his mind working to go through all the possibilities, the boy suddenly turned his head and looked at him. Even in the dark room, something in his eyes told Fabrizio that there was just one possibility left.

They had switched dreams.

And there was something else. This hadn’t been a dream with the abstract fears of adolescence, this was a dream of someone who had known fear, real fear, in a time of life when they shouldn’t. This wasn’t just a dream, these were memories.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

The guy let himself slide off the bed, bare feet tapping on the tiles as he made his way over to the window. He sat on the windowsill, opposite Ermal, mirroring him, with his knees pulled up. Carefully, he settled a foot between Ermal’s, lining up their ankles. The guy stared at them for a second, but didn’t break the silence between them.

“Are you okay?” Ermal asked, softly, finally, when the silence ticked on and grew. He knew that he had made the connection too, and he wondered where it left them.

The guy looked at him then, running a hand over his face, fingers brushing gently over his right eye. Ermal knew why. The feeling of that black eye, that first hit, was always the last to fade away.

“Yes, I’m good,” the guy muttered finally, without too much conviction, and the look in his eyes showed Ermal that he wasn’t. Both of them weren’t, both of them were too shaken by this. It was too strange, too unheard of to let go as if nothing happened. But it was also too much to talk about right now, with the darkness of night still lingering in the room, though they could see a slight glimmer in the eastern skies that promised a new day was approaching.

They sat there, lost in thought, lost in the implications, lost in figuring out what this meant. Occasionally they looked at each other, but when their conscious broke through the mindless staring for a second, they averted their eyes again, blushing.

The next time their eyes met, the guy cocked his head at him, and Ermal kept looking, waiting.

“And you, are you okay? I mean... At home?”

Ermal stared at him, that wasn’t what he had expected to hear, that wasn’t the first question he expected the guy to have.

“Yeah. Yes. It’s... All good now. Much better than... Yeah,” he stammered finally, and the guy nodded, staring at the dark world outside again.

It seemed he had recovered a bit, from this unexpected dream, from this nightmare that wasn’t his. Ermal wondered if they should talk about this. It wasn’t normally done, talking about your dreams with others, they had their own to deal with. But this situation wasn’t normal, not at all. Maybe he should try to make it a bit more like that.

“Um,” he started, and got the guy’s attention back on him, “I don’t know… I mean, what’s your name?”

“Fabrizio,” the answer came quickly, as if he’d been waiting for an easy question to break through the cacophony of unanswerable ones in his head.

“Ermal.”

They nodded at each other, silent again, but a little closer than before.

Before Ermal could try to continue this tentative conversation, he noticed that one of the others in the room had started to move more, as if they were waking up soon. He wanted to talk to Fabrizio, but not with people around.

“Would you... Do you want to go and look for breakfast together?” he asked, hesitating a little, but then saw a nod from the corner of his eyes.

They got off the windowsill, and made their way to the bathrooms to get ready. It was early enough that both were unoccupied, and they found themselves back in their room around the same time.

“Shall we go?” Fabrizio asked, with a small smile, a smile that was there for politeness’ sake, an attempt to make this situation seem a bit more normal, when it wasn’t.

Ermal nodded, and they made their way outside, towards the city centre. They didn’t speak, just walked through the empty streets together. They passed a few bakeries, but none were open for customers yet. Ermal didn’t think either of them minded, now they had some more time to put between them and the dreams they’d had, and some more time left between them and the conversation they were going to have.

Finally, in a little street tucked away in a corner of a square, they found a bakery that was open. Each ordered a coffee and something to eat, and settled at one of the tables outside.

Ermal took a first sip of his coffee, and knew he had to start talking. Not _that_ talk, but he had to say something.

“So, what brings you here?” he asked Fabrizio, biting into his croissant.

Fabrizio looked at him over the rim of his own cup, and answered, “I’m going to see a concert here tonight. And you?”

“The university has an open day. I’m thinking of studying here. Languages,” Ermal offered.

Breakfast continued like that, with just the littlest small talk. Both knew that it was only a way to fill the time until they started discussing what was really on their mind.

It was Fabrizio who first breached the topic, as they walked aimlessly through the streets that were waking up now.

“What do you think happened? How?” he asked between nervous drags of his cigarette.

Ermal shrugged. He didn’t know. No one had ever said that something like this could happen, switching dreams with someone else.

“Maybe the dreams got mixed up? We were confused about who slept where, and the beds were above each other...”

At that, Fabrizio scoffed. “What, like the stories we tell children? There’s a monster under the bed who gives us nightmares? Do you really believe that?”

Ermal shot him a look. “Well, do you have a better explanation? I don’t know why it happened.”

Fabrizio’s expression turned apologetic, but he didn’t say anything else, closing the topic before it could evolve into further speculation. They weren’t in the mood for that.

In their wanderings they had reached the river’s edge, and Ermal led them to a bench overlooking the water.

“I’m sorry you got stuck with my dream,” he muttered as he sat down, staring at the gentle waves. His past was a burden he wouldn’t wish on anyone, and he knew best of all what his nightmares were like.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” Fabrizio only answered, and it sounded so sincere, so heartfelt. Ermal dragged his eyes away from the water and to the face next to him. Fabrizio, looked back, his eyes kind and warm, but without pity. Ermal nodded once, smiled, a proper smile, and turned back to the river.

He thought this would be the end of the topic, but Fabrizio took him by surprise.

“But it’s okay now? You and your siblings, and your mom?”

Ermal nodded again, touched by the guy’s concern, he’d asked this already.

“Yes. We moved. We’re doing well.”

“I’m glad,” Fabrizio said, and again Ermal could hear how much he meant it.

“Are you meeting friends here, for the concert?” he asked, just to shift the topic away from him.

There was a pause, a hesitation, before the answer came.

“No, I’m going alone.”

Another pause, in which Ermal couldn’t help but link that one word to the dream he’d had. Fabrizio’s dream.

It seemed Fabrizio made the same connection, because he quickly continued, “No, not like that, I mean, it’s just more convenient, my friends had to work and well, this way I can just do whatever I want, it’s easier, traveling like that.”

Ermal watched him, but Fabrizio didn’t meet his eyes. He stared out across the water, biting his lip tightly.

He framed it as a good thing, traveling alone, as a form of freedom, but Ermal remembered the dream so clearly, and he wondered whether it was really that. Was Fabrizio here alone because it really was more convenient to travel like that, or was he here alone because he hadn’t found anyone to accompany him? Was he here alone, despite trying not to be, and it was only feeding his deepest fears?

“Fabrizio?” Ermal tried softly, not sure if he could do this, it was clear that he had his excuses ready, but Ermal felt he had to try. He didn’t really know what to say, though, because he knew so little about Fabrizio’s life… But he knew some things.

He knew some things about Fabrizio, who feared loneliness more than anything else, who was afraid of not being heard, of being forgotten... Fabrizio, who seemed so kind, Fabrizio who he seemed to have a few things in common with... Shouldn’t he do something? Shouldn’t he try to show him he wasn’t as alone as he thought? That there could always be found someone who cared about him and who would listen to him?

Acting mostly on an impulse, Ermal turned to face Fabrizio.

“Can I borrow your phone for a second?” he asked, and was surprised when Fabrizio slid his phone from his pocket and handed it to him without question. He didn’t really have any answers to give.

He found the address book and added a contact. His name. His number. He didn’t save it yet, though, that was not his choice to make. He handed the phone back to Fabrizio, who stared at it.

“Call me sometime. I’d love to hear from you,” he said, mentally cursing himself for the blush creeping up his face. This was a bold move for him.

Fabrizio took the phone, his fingers softly brushing against Ermal’s, and he looked at him with a smile, though it was a bit shaky.

“Thank you,” he said, and clicked ‘save’, checking the entry in his list of contacts, and selecting Ermal’s name. He took a deep breath before calling, shyly looking up at Ermal through his eyelashes, as if he wasn’t sure he could.

Ermal fished his vibrating phone out of his pocket, briefly accepted the call and then saved the number, adding an emoji that showed a city in a sunrise, quite like how the world had looked when they stepped out of the hostel. He angled his phone so that Fabrizio could see it too, and saved it.

He wished he could do something more, but he had set the first step, and any more would follow with time. He already felt close to Fabrizio, it was no doubt a side effect of the dream mix-up, but Ermal was sure they could become truly close, could become friends. It only needed time.

They sat there on the riverbank, watching the city around them awake, steadily but surely, the number of people around them growing, and the noise increasing too. From the exchanging of numbers, conversation flowed naturally back to lighter topics. It also just naturally flowed, Ermal found. Now with the heavy awkwardness after the night had dissolved and the serious talk behind them, and no uneasy small talk to fill uncomfortable silences, it was so _easy_ to talk to Fabrizio.

Time flew by, until Ermal realized he needed to get to the university, or he would miss the talks he had signed up for, the reasons he had travelled all this way. He got up from the bench reluctantly, he didn’t really want to leave Fabrizio. Ermal stood there for a few seconds, not sure how to say goodbye. They would see each other again, he was sure, they shared a bunk bed, after all, but still, it had been a special morning.

At least Fabrizio seemed to know what to do. He got up too, and pulled Ermal into an unexpected but oh so welcome, warm hug. Ermal clung to him, this was making it even harder to leave, but he had to.

“Go,” Fabrizio said in his ear, softly, “We’ll see each other later.”

Ermal nodded into his shoulder, but slowly unwrapped himself.

“Have fun at the concert, if I don’t see you before then.”

It was Fabrizio’s turn to nod, now.

“I will. Now, go.”

With a last smile, Ermal walked away, towards the bus station that had shuttles to campus. He hoped Fabrizio had a nice time today, and wouldn’t let the loneliness get to him too much. He had to remember he wasn’t alone, not really, there was always someone who would be there for him.

Ermal sat through the talks and met some other people interested in the study programme, but for now it wasn’t enough to answer his questions. Did he really want to study this? Did he really want to study here? – But he knew that he would have time to sort through it all later. His final decision was still a few months away.

He joined others for dinner, and it was quite late when he made it back to the hostel. The room was dark, the bed above his empty. Ermal read a little in the light of his bedside lamp, mounted on the wall, but then had to go sleep. The early morning had taken its toll.

He closed his eyes, this time to find the familiar home, the furniture as he remembered it from years ago. His mother and his siblings. His father. The same memories, the same dream, he lived through it again, like nothing had changed.

And nothing had changed, not in the dream, but when he woke that night, taking deep breaths, he found Fabrizio sitting on the floor next to his bed, his fingers brushing over the back of Ermal’s hand until the pain was gone. Then Ermal turned his own and grabbed Fabrizio’s hand tightly, a small smile starting on his face.

They were safe, and neither of them was alone.


End file.
